


Dayglow

by pipisafoat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people of Atlantis begin to glow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dayglow

_It starts something like this:_

"Do you know you're sort of glowing?"

"Huh?" Rodney wriggled out from under the control panel and sat up, carefully placing a crystal on the floor before looking over to his friend. "Huh. So're you."

"I wonder if it's anything like a mood ring," John mused.

"More likely, it's some sort of special Ancient dust mixing with the light from the setting sun and gravitating towards our bodies. Except then--" Rodney paused as he squirmed his way back into the panel. "I'd really expect to see orange instead of blue. But that's optics, not real physics. You'd have to ask Radek."

 _But the beginning is much before that. The beginning, before it starts, is the middle of the night, almost half a day before that conversation:_

"For fuck's sake, Colonel, I don't need you and Elizabeth to babysit me every time the ventilation system detects an anomaly!"

John shrugged and dropped his hand meaningfully to the gun at his side. "It could be Wraith."

"Yes, yes, in which case we'd all be dead anyway, because you only bothered to bring one gun." Rodney frowned at his screen. "It's not a crime for your idiot Marines to blow cigarette smoke into the vents. And it's not like the ventilation system can't handle it. It's just a-- hmm."

"Just a?"

"Just a bit overactive, alarms for everything, nothing to worry about. Ought to recalibrate it so it doesn't wake us up every time someone lights up. But."

"But?"

"I don't know. This isn't smoke."

Elizabeth's eyes came open at that, though it looked like a struggle. This wasn't their first midnight alarm of the week. "Not smoke? Please tell me it's a false alarm you can disable."

"No, not a false alarm, either. It's something the computers are calling covalium."

John snorted. Elizabeth groaned her way through a yawn. "Valium? Just what we need."

Rodney looked up from the screen suddenly to glare at them. "COvalium. Anyway, the computer says it's not harmful, just not normally found in the air. And it's only showing trace amounts. I've set it to wake me up - and just me - if the levels get much higher, but otherwise, I'll set a couple biochemists on it in the morning. Let them feel useful."

 _But they don't know that was the beginning. They won't realize it's the beginning until much later. For now, it's starting with the men glowing:_

"Blue?" John asked, poking idly at a complicated-looking wrench. "Looks more purple to me."

"Colorblind. Stop touching my tools." Rodney groped vaguely, and John dropped the wrench-thing into his hand. "I don't see me glowing."

"Well, you are. A sort of ... fuzzy halo thing. Around your whole body. And it's definitely purple."

The scientist sighed and twisted back out from under the interface. "Well, you're blue. And since there's no logical reason for us to be glowing different colors, you must be wrong."

"Can you see your own glow?" John cocked his head suddenly. "Was there a logical reason for us to be glowing in the first place? Something that didn't involve immediately freaking out and calling Carson?"

 _It sort of pauses there as Rodney does exactly that, but there's no question that it started in that room at the bottom of the central tower, at the heart of the ventilation system. It takes Elizabeth all of four minutes to put the pieces together, once she has all of them in her hands, but when she does, she suddenly understands the odd looks she's been getting for the past twenty minutes._

"It's clear why we're glowing so strongly," Rodney said almost morosely. "We were getting higher concentrations of the covalium down in the ventilation access room."

"Sure. So why are we glowing in the first place?" John propped his feet on the table and raised one eyebrow. "It's not a hallucinogenic if everyone else is seeing it, too. And it's not radioactive."

Elizabeth frowned at John's boots to no avail. "Johansson said something about it altering the polarity of the air around us? I didn't really follow his explanation. Linguistics is working on a translation of what was in the database as we speak."

"Science aside...." Rodney hesitated. "Right. Science aside. That part of science, at least. I want to know why I'm a different color." A small unhappy frown appeared on his face.

"Relax, Rodney, I'm sure it's just because you're so much smarter than the rest of us."

The frown became a disapproving but somewhat happier look. "Try to be constructive, Sheppard. If it's physically possible for you."

"If you have a higher concentration from the access room--"

"You were up in the night with us," John pointed out.

"We weren't down there."

Rodney sat up suddenly. "It has to be something that's inhaled. Respiration increases when you're awake. Which means--"

"The rest of the city--"

There was a knock on the door.

Elizabeth sighed. "Will be glowing now, too." They glanced through the glass walls, and she nodded to herself. "Fantastic." She unlocked the door and spoke before the man on the other side could. "Chuck, let's cancel all unnecessary offworld trips and gather as many people as we can in the gate room to talk about this."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And say what?" Rodney asked. "'Hi, as you can see, you're all glowing, but don't worry, we don't have a clue why'? I'm sure that'll go over well."

 _Surprisingly, it does go over well. Well enough for the Pegasus galaxy, at least. Most people just shrug and go back to their work. It's easy enough to ignore, what with everyone's own hands not seeming to glow in front of their faces. The Covalium Research Team, or CRT as Rodney takes to calling them, spends a mostly fruitless day of measuring and observing until:_

"John, do you have a moment?"

He looked up from the still-incomplete translation and grinned. "You brought coffee."

Teyla nodded at the room. "I was unaware of how many of you were working on this," she told them apologetically. "I only brought six cups."

"Dibs," Rodney called from the whiteboard at the other side of the room. "On two of them."

John shook his head as Teyla set the tray down on the table. He grabbed a cup and followed her out of the room. "What's up?"

"Have you and the scientists yet found an explanation for this phenomenon?"

He sighed. "No, and the database entry on the substance seems to be written in an unfamiliar dialect. It's slow going."

She nodded slowly. "I have some information that may or may not help you, but I feel you should know it before someone else figures it out and allows it to become common knowledge. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

John glanced down the hall. "Uh, sure, but why? If you're so sure someone else will work it out...."

"Because I am aware of the inhumane regulations of your military, John." Teyla frowned sadly. "And now I am aware of your place in them."

"Shit." He herded her into an empty room and locked the door behind them. "Are telling me I'm glowing blue because I'm gay?"

"No, your aura is blue because you seek men. The women who also do so are also blue."

"So the pink would be people who, ah, seek women. And the purple?"

Teyla raised one eyebrow at him, and he flushed.

"Right. Bisexual."

She nodded. "John, this could be problematic for many under your command, as well as many others throughout the city if the same expectations are laid upon them."

"They're not required to. I mean, social pressure probably has most of them closeted or quiet, but there aren't any rules about it outside of the military." He closed his eyes, sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "Shit, Teyla, what do we do now?"

She laid a gentle hand on his arm. "You continue to search for the answer."

He slit his eyes just enough to peer at her. "You don't know how to fix it?"

"I came to my conclusions because several people have previously confided their preferences to me. I have never before encountered such an event." She smiles. "I'm sorry, John. I wish I could help you. The scientists will have to do it own their own - as they have done many times before."

His eyes jumped open. "The sci-- I can't go back in there, Teyla. Half of them I'm not supposed to know, and the other half, I really don't want to know. And nobody is supposed to know about _me_!"

She moved her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down to touch foreheads. After a long moment of silence, during which she could almost feel him pull himself back together, she spoke softly. "They have already seen, and it cannot be unseen. You must take pride in yourself, John, and the rest of this base will follow your lead."

He took a deep breath and pulled away. "Right. Well, under the circumstances, Don't Ask, Don't Tell is pretty much shot, anyway. May as well bury it in style."

Teyla smiled and moved towards the door. She paused on the threshold and turned back to him. "And do not allow yourself to think that it will bury you."

 _But it doesn't move on from there. The scientists have only just stopped announcing, 'Hey! You're pink!" whenever someone new walks through the door, and John decides it's better to keep the meaning of the colors to himself for the moment:_

"Colonel Daydream, will you please stop staring at me and do something useful?"

John sighed and started to fold another paper airplane. "Like what, Unhelpful PhD PhD?"

Rodney spun away from the computer he'd been staring at and looked ready to throw the tablet in his hand before he thought better of it. "Go get some sandwiches if you can't keep up with the big boys," he snapped.

John sighed again. "Sorry."

Rodney huffed. "Sandwiches," he repeated, but with less bite.

 _Instead, the forward motion comes from somewhere else._

He overheard it quite by mistake while carting the massive tray of sandwiches back down to the lab they'd co-opted for the duration. "Damn, not the Colonel, too!" He spun, but the origin of the voice was already rounding a corner, leaving only a faint hint of a blue aura and the tail end of a blond ponytail for him to see. He snuck back to that corner but was unable to catch them before they disappeared in a transporter. He overheard only one more thing: "All the good ones really are gay."

John hurried into the lab, dropped the tray on a table, grabbed a handful of sandwiches, and dragged Rodney into one of the side offices. "We've got to talk."

"I've got to eat!"

He stuffed a sandwich into Rodney's protesting mouth. "We've got to talk," he repeated. "Teyla told me something you should probably know."

Rodney swallowed a half-chewed mouthful and brandished the rest of the sandwich in a vaguely threatening manner at the other man. "If she knows how to fix this and has been holding out - if you've been holding out!"

"No, it's not that. She's just ... She understands people, you know?" He actually waits for Rodney to nod before continuing. "She worked out what the colors mean and warned me. I know she wouldn't have said anything, but obviously someone else has got it figured out, and--" He shrugged helplessly. "It's not going to be pretty."

Rodney took another bite and chewed thoughtfully for a minute. "Are you going to tell me what the colors are?" he asked after a pause. "Because you know that I don't know people."

John took a deep breath. "What if I told you that you're bisexual?"

"Wouldn't be surprised; everyone gets it wrong," Rodney answers, then narrows his eyes. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What do you mean, wrong? Purple means you're going to be into men and women--"

"And any gender variation other than the two, thank you very much. I'm from the 21st century - pansexual is a much more accurate term." Rodney almost preened as he added, "Clearly the covalium isn't accustomed to the identity stew that is this evolution of mankind."

"You are truly a bizarre man." John frowned. "The point is, even if we reverse this thing this very second, we already have at least a minor crisis on our hands in the aftermath. For one thing, if it gets back to the SGC, I'm probably out a job."

"For being proven straight?" Rodney liberated another sandwich from the other man's hands.

John sighed. "Blue is for 'into men,' not 'straight."

The scientist paused. "Huh."

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell is sort of out the window when everybody's being _shown_ their orientation whether they want to display it or not."

Rodney huffed impatiently. "They won't take you away from Atlantis, Colonel. Stop worrying. General O'Neill is bi, for one thing. And for another, nobody else is stupid enough to want to fight life-sucking aliens for a living. You're stuck with us." He put an arm awkwardly around John's shoulders. "Also, um, sorry you were outed like this, but at least now you know you're not alone?"

They were saved the awkward moment lasting any longer by a knock on the door. "Doctor McKay?"

Rodney sighed as he removed his arm. "Well." He opened the door and gestured for the man to come in. "Johnson?"

"Johansson, sir," the scientist replied with a weary sigh. "We've finally finished the translation."

"About time." He paused long enough to nick the last sandwich just before John could bite into it. "Let's see it, then."

 _The sexual orientation revelation is taken in stride by the scientists, to John's surprise. When they move on to bickering about the best way to neutralize the covalium, he wanders out of the lab and down to the gym, where Teyla is watching a squad of Marines fail to spar effectively._

"They are too easily distracted by the new colors," she remarked.

"You're right. Want to show them how it's done?"

"I have already done so," she replied serenely.

A Marine sitting nearby looks up at them. "I can vouch for that, sir."

John laughed at the bruise already welling up on the man's pink-glowing arm. "You've got to switch it off for fighting, Marine."

The man nodded. "Not used to sparring a hot woman." His face reddened. "I mean--"

Teyla smiled. "Thank you for the compliment, James."

James nodded quickly and hurriedly continued his conversation with John. "How do you do it, sir? How do you concentrate when you're fighting an attractive man?"

He blinked at the ease with which the Marine asked, the complete non-issue he made of John's sexuality. "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "It helps if you focus on the fact that your opponent could kill you if you let your guard down. And watch the important bits, not the attractive ones." He reached a hand down and hauled the man to his feet. "Say you have a knife in your hand." He pulled one out of his boot and handed it to the Marine. "If I'm looking at, I don't know, your legs, because I'm thinking about how hot your calves are or something, you can come in and catch me off guard with the knife."

James nodded slowly. "But we're supposed to watch everything. Shifts in balance that can reveal movement...."

"Watch everything. Filter out things that won't save your life. You'll get the hang of it if you just keep practicing." John grinned. "Besides, we hardly ever have to fight female Wraith."

The Marine shuddered. "Thanks for that, sir. The law of irony now says that I'll be the one there the next time you do."

Another soldier stepped off the mat and grinned at the young man. "Don't worry so much, new kid. The Wraith are sexy and all, until you realize you're about to die. Then it doesn't matter what his voice sounds like or how ridiculously hot he looks in that long coat, your instinct'll kick in and you'll fight like a madman. You'll be fine."

John smiled gratefully at the newcomer, glad to see another blue man in the sea of pink that was the gym. "Sounds about right, Barrowman." He nodded to the young Marine, retrieved his knife, and glanced invitingly at Teyla on his way out.

She waited until they were well down the hallway before speaking. "Those men are all aware of the meaning of the colors," she offered quietly. "If they are representative of the military on this base, you should have no problems revoking the distasteful policy."

He sighed. "I can't do that, Teyla. Not even just for this base. Maybe if we were still cut off from Earth, but not with any sort of communication or personnel movement between us. It's not practical, not to mention against every rule in the book."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again for a moment. When she finally spoke, her tone was carefully measured. "I believe you could accomplish it if you tried. You are not alone among your men, and you would find many allies among the soldiers, as well as from the ranks of the civilians." Before he could answer, she turned down a side hallway and slid out of sight. He sighed and headed towards the mess, hoping there'd be something good still out.

"Sheppard, we got it," a voice said in his ear.

"On my way back to the lab," he responded, changing direction immediately.

"No, meet me in the ventilation access room," Rodney said. "I've got to adjust the system again before we introduce the antidote."

 _And so, it begins to end in the place where it started:_

"What the hell has you so moody?" Rodney snapped his fingers and held out his hand expectantly. "Crystal, already!"

John located the crystal and hesitated before handing it over. "Teyla wants me to revoke Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

"Did you explain the convoluted nature of the American policy-making system?" It sounded like Rodney was holding the screwdriver between his teeth, and John reached under the control panel to take it away from him.

"Just for Atlantis," he clarified. "She seems to think that we can make our own policies out here. Never mind that we've got communication back with the SGC and just got a shipment of new personnel." He handed the screwdriver back before Rodney could even reach all the way out for it. "I tried to explain how impossible that would be, but she seems to disagree."

"Well, she's right. What the...." He tossed a long nail out from under the console. "Remind me find out who's been doing maintenance down here and berate them."

"You were under there last. And please, tell me exactly how we can create our own policies without seceding from Planet Earth."

Rodney huffed impatiently. "First of all, I don't think we can secede, being as how we're not actually a part of any country. But look at this situation. It's the perfect excuse. Everyone's been outed against their will. There's been no technical violation of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, but there's still absolutely no way to enforce it anymore. Therefore, Atlantis ought to be exempt. A safe haven for all the badass fags." He squirmed out at an awkward angle and ended up with his head on John's boot. "Sorry, is that offensive? I lost track a few years back."

John laughed. "Anyone else would kick your ass." He nudged Rodney's head with his toes. "Done under there?"

"Essentially. Give me a hand putting the cover back on it. I hate working against gravity."

They worked their way under the console together, and John lifted the metal covering into place. "You really think the SGC would go for it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that O'Neill is the least effectively closeted general in the Air Force? He'd at least think about it."

"He doesn't make all the decisions all by himself."

"Well, he's a part of it, dumbass. He can make everyone else think about it." Rodney sighed and reached over John's body to screw in the corner over his head.

"Let me do that before you break my nose with your elbow." John took the screwdriver away from Rodney and relocated the other man's hand to the middle of the panel. "Hold it up for me. What do you care about it, anyway? You're a civilian."

"For fuck's sake, Colonel, you're not the only one who wishes the military men could date freely." Rodney tapped his radio irritably. "Johnson--"

"Johansson," John corrected in stereo with the man in question.

"Whatever. Go ahead and put your antidote in the system."

There was a short pause. "Done. The effects should be reversed by mid-morning tomorrow. Did you want to inform Doctor Weir yourself?"

"No." Rodney tapped his radio off and sighed. "Are we done here?"

John frowned. "It's on. Rodney, you can't just tell me to change a policy that's been in effect for years and expect it to happen overnight."

The scientist squirmed out from under the console. "I don't expect it to happen overnight. I expect you to get the ball rolling overnight, because if you put it off, it's not going to happen." He turned and glared at John, who stood up and offered a hand. "The ball is entirely in your court on this one, Colonel. Don't let your men down." He pulled himself to his feet, refusing the outstretched hand, and stalked out of the room. A moment later, he returned.

"Forget something?" John held out the screwdriver.

Rodney took it, but he stood there looking at his friend instead of leaving. "Teyla says I should stop yelling at you and ask if you're okay, what with suddenly being outed and all that."

John smiled and shook his head. "Somehow I doubt she meant for you to say it just like that. But yes, I'm fine. I was closeted for my job; it doesn't bother me beyond that concern that people know. In fact, I'm more than fine. There are more of us than I thought, and we all seem to be getting by just the same after the big reveal."

"Good." Rodney nodded decisively. "In that case, I'm still mad at you."

 _And that's where the situation ends, but the story is only just beginning. Perhaps it continues like this:_

"Dinner time."

Rodney frowns at his computer. "I have food. In my drawer."

"Real dinner, Rodney."

"Busy."

John sighs and looks over the other man's shoulder. "Simulations can run without you staring at them. You ate lunch in here, and breakfast, and hopefully also a midnight snack. You're coming to dinner."

Rodney looks up and frowns at John. "Is this a feed-the-scientist thing or feed-the-boyfriend thing?"

"Which one is more likely to work?" John looks around the room, despite knowing it was empty when he came in. "Boyfriend thing disguised as scientist thing," he says quietly.

"Boyfriend thing would be more effective if you didn't disguise it every time," Rodney complains, but he turns away from the computer and picks up his jacket. "Fine, let's go."

"Can we not argue about the military policies anymore?" John gestures for his partner to precede him through the doorway.

Rodney stops before crossing the threshold, signals the door closed, and pushes John up against the wall. "Sure," he says softly, leaning in close. "Just as soon as you change it so that I can do this in public." And he closes the distance and kisses the other man.

 _Or maybe it continues like this:_

"Sir, to be honest, it's a bit of a moot point by now. Every single person on this base has been outed, whether they wanted to be or not. Unless you feel like wiping all our memories, we know who's gay and who isn't. Nobody here will provide you with a list of the servicemembers who may be in violation of a code we don't support."

Elizabeth leans in towards the screen, and John shifts aside to let her into the transmitting area. "General O'Neill, we're prepared to declare our allegiance and enter formal discussions on a trade agreement between the independent city of Atlantis and the planet Earth. If it comes down to that."

O'Neill grins at them. "Message received, Atlantis. My advice would be to hold off on that Independence Day party and let me make sure the appropriate blind eyes are turned. What the brass can't see won't hurt them."

"All due respect, sir, you _are_ the brass."

O'Neill winks. "And don't you forget it, Sheppard. SGC out."

Rodney smirks as the transmission ends. "Told you so."

"I didn't see you standing in front of the camera," John shoots back. "Real vote of confidence there, buddy."

"Oh, please. The last thing the general needs in front of him while thinking about gayness is me." His ears turn pink, and he glances back at the screen. "We may have, ah, had a disagreement on the matter in the past."

"Oh, God."

Rodney glares at him. "He's not half-bad, for an older guy! Even your military-repressed self has to have noticed!"

"Okay, that's it." John takes his friend by the shoulders and turns him to face the gate room. "Look down there. See all the pretty, _young_ men? See them? Three of them are gay. Please, for the love of all that keeps me sane, ogle them instead of my commanding officer."

 _Or it might be somewhere in the middle. Only time will tell._

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Queer_Fest. Prompt: any characters, In the vein of Bruce Coville's 'Am I Blue?' the entire queer population of any fandom is magically outed (actual blueness optional). How do they deal with this/how does the focal character respond to the knowledge that they're not alone?  
> With thanks to [](http://firesign10.livejournal.com/profile)[**firesign10**](http://firesign10.livejournal.com/) for beta action!


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